One
by keelhaulrose
Summary: "Never love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary." -Oscar Wilde Bucky shows Hermione just how extraordinary he finds her. Part 3 of the Marked series.


**I'm trying this again, apparently I had too many files and got confused. Sorry everyone!**

**This was written for the Hermione's Haven #HHBingo19**

**Square B2: "Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary." -Oscar Wilde**

Hermione sat in bed, a book open on her lap, though she wasn't paying it much mind. Crookshanks jumped onto the end of the bed and let off a soft mewl as he approached her, forcing his way under her hand.

"Are you feeling a little neglected?" she asked, a smile coming across her face. "I know, it's an adjustment, but a good one," she murmured as she scratched his ears.

He nudged her leg hard.

"You are terrible when you're jealous," she chuckled.

"What's that little furball got to be jealous of?" Bucky asked, coming in from the bathroom.

Hermione had to force her face to stay put as it threatened to go slack at the sight before her. Bucky had just gotten out of the shower, his hair still damp, a few stray drops of water cutting paths down his muscular chest, his new metal arm gleaming even in the dim light of the room. The only thing he was wearing was a towel, which hung dangerously low on his hips. It had been just over a month since her unexpected trip to Wakanda to heal his mind, and in that month her life had been turned upside down. She now had two roommates, both of whom were wanted fugitives. It took some convincing but eventually Bucky and Steve had moved in with her, and with every day she found it harder to imagine life without both of them around, though through their bond as soulmates she knew at least Bucky would be sticking around.

"He's used to having that half of the bed all to himself," she replied as Bucky dropped onto the other side of her bed, earning an irritated look from the half kneazle.

"Sorry, ginger," he smirked, giving Crookshanks a stroke. "I've kind of gotten used to it."

Crookshanks stood and hopped over Hermione and off the bed, walking out of the room with only a long enough pause to shoot Bucky a reproachful look.

"I don't think your cat likes me," Bucky smiled.

"It's not you," Hermione assured him as she waved her wand to close the door. "He just prefers Steve."

"Everyone prefers Steve."

"Well he is the consummate gentleman..."

"You better not be consummating anything with him, I'd hate to have to beat him up again," he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a giggle. "You're lucky I prefer men who are a bit more rough around the edges."

"Oh, you like rough?" he smirked, reaching out to pull her to him and crash his lips into hers. She gave into his demanding kiss, letting his lips lead hers, until the intensity finally waned and he pulled away from her. He didn't say anything as he lightly ran his hand down her side, his eyes following, until he reached the bottom hem of her shirt. Slowly he pulled it up, just enough to expose her lower abdomen, and ran his fingers lightly over her skin.

"Do you ever think we'll have a family?" he asked softly, sounding unsure.

"I would love to have children with you," she replied without hesitation.

"Would they be like you?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Magical? Most likely. Nothing is a guarantee, but it's more common for children of witches and wizards to be magical themselves than not."

"Would you tell them about your war?"

"Eventually, when they're old enough," she reached up to run a hand through his hair.

His head dropped slightly. "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell them. If they found out..."

She cupped his face and moved him so he was looking at her again. "It wasn't your fault," she assured him. "By the time we're ready for a child we'll have cleared your name and you'll have redeemed yourself. I know it."

"That makes one of us," he smiled before turning his head to press a kiss to her palm. "At least I know that if we do have children they'll have at least one extraordinary parent."

"Extraordinary," she repeated with a shake of her head.

"What? You don't think you're extraordinary?" he asked, sitting up and scooping her up with one arm, moving her so she was sitting astride his lap. "There is no one on this planet who can match you. You freed my mind," he murmured, pulling the strap of the nightgown she was wearing to the side and pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "You are extraordinarily brilliant," he moved her shoulder slightly so he could press a kiss to the red star that marked her as his. "And you're extraordinarily kind," he moved his head a few inches and kissed again. "Extraordinarily witty. Extraordinarily loyal. Extraordinarily brave," he punctuated each claim with another kiss, trailing lazily up her neck until he was finally ghosting her lips. "And extraordinarily sexy," he said finally before catching her lips in another kiss. "You will never convince me that you are anything less than the most extraordinary woman on the planet and that I am the luckiest man ever to have you as mine."

"You are quite the bloody charmer, aren't you?" she smiled, kissing him again. "And I still consider myself the lucky one."

"Well, I guess I can forgive you a little bit of crazy," he laughed.

"You're incorrigible," she giggled.

"It's one of the things that makes me irresistible, doll."

She laughed again and kissed him, this time sliding her hips against his to let him know the time to talk was over. He happily obliged, using his metal hand to hold her back tightly to him as he used his other hand to cup her rear and rock her against him. She felt him growing beneath the towel and couldn't suppress a soft moan. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed away just far enough to break their embrace. He took the hint, balling her nightgown in his metal hand and pulling upwards, roughly freeing her from it. The cool metal sent shivers across her skin as it slid down her back, forcefully guiding her back to him so their lips could crash together once again. They had only been sleeping together for a couple weeks, but Bucky seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of her body. Having his hands run over her was a sensation in and of itself. His regular hand was calloused but warm and soft, a gentle press into her skin that reacted to the motions of her muscles under it. His metal hand was always cool, strong and unyielding, but despite that Bucky knew exactly how restrained he had to be with it to give her the firm touch she desperately wanted. Bucky obviously favored his right hand, wanting to feel her, and used the left more to move her, occasionally to hold her tightly against him as he spilled into her.

Now it was the metal hand which wound itself into her hair and tugged carefully back, forcing their mouths apart and giving him access to her neck. Bucky took his time kissing, sucking, and nipping at her skin, his right hand playing lazily with her breasts, until she was writhing on top of him, desperate to feel him inside her. She forced herself not to beg, Bucky could be a tease when he wanted to drive her wild, but slowly ran her hand down his muscular chest until she found the towel. Unwrapping it from him without using magic and without his cooperation was a bit of a trick, but eventually she managed to free his erection. She slid herself alongside his length a few times until Bucky lost his composure.

"Hermione, please," he practically growled.

In response she took him in her hand and lowered herself onto him, closing her eyes and biting her lip as she took all of him inside her. Bucky's right hand gripped tightly onto her hip, but his left grabbed the bed to avoid hurting her, and she suppressed a smile as she heard fabric ripping. She took her time finding a good rhythm rolling her hips back and forth as she raised and lowered herself. Bucky started kissing her skin with renewed vigor, his perpetual stubble scratching her skin as he kissed and nuzzled her breasts, neck, and collarbone. She didn't realize her movements had sped to the point where he was close to losing control until he forcefully lifted her, rolling her onto her back and kissing her as he slid back into her. His left hand slipped between them, the cool metal fingers circling her nub. She moaned into his mouth and arched her back, but his lips wouldn't leave hers until her head forcefully threw back and she cried as every muscle in her body tensed, then released as she came apart around him. A few thrusts later he shuddered as he climaxed with a whisper of her name. His lips found hers again, much less forcefully this time, as he came down, and he pulled himself from her and rolled them onto their sides so he could stay pressed against her as they both caught their breaths.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he muttered.

"Language," she automatically replied.

"If you ever remind me of Steve after we just finished having sex again the only bedmate you'll have is that ginger menace you call a cat."

She chuckled and kissed him again. One day, probably too soon for her liking, she knew they would face trouble, but in that moment everything was right.


End file.
